The Immortal Dreams of Bryan Johnson

IF ALL GOES TO PLAN, JOHNSON WILL STILL BE TALKING ABOUT HIS YOUTHFUL ERECTIONS WELL INTO THE 25TH CENTURY-BY WHICH POINT WE'LL ALL BE DEVOTEES OF HIS AI-INFUSED QUEST FOR ETERNAL LIFE.

- BY Katie Drummond PHOTOGRAPHS BY Erica Hernandez

AT FIRST, THE two bowls of fruit on Bryan Johnson’s kitchen island look perfect. They’re brimming with plump kiwis, hardy avocados, and ripened bananas. These are the food of the gods, I figure, for a man who aspires to live like one. But then I look closer. A lone orange, its skin flecked with mold, sits adjacent to two lemons, both almost entirely consumed by a layer of white fuzz. Something, it seems, is rotten in the estate of Johnson.

That estate, it’s worth noting, is a predictable one. Johnson’s home in Venice, California, is the angular, concrete-floored template of a dwelling you’d assume is owned by a man. Specifically a man who worked in tech, made his millions, and subsequently embarked on a midlife, post-wealth search for purpose. All of which Johnson is, and did, and still appears to be doing: After selling his web payments company, Braintree, for $800 million in 2013, Johnson parted ways with both his wife and his lifelong Mormon religion. In 2021 he announced Project Blueprint, an effort designed to reverse his own body’s aging process. This involves an all-consuming, unproven regimen including but not limited to daily exercises, blood tests, a doctrinal sleep routine, MRIs, plasma transfers, scalp stimulants, urine tests, several dozen supplements, Dexa scans, light therapy, and caloric restriction.